


dinner and a movie

by somehowunbroken



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Cooking, Cutesy, Getting Together, M/M, Pool & Billiards, Television Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 12:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: Cale thought Tyson was joking when he offered to cook for him. As it turns out, he wasn't. At all.
Relationships: Tyson Jost/Cale Makar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	dinner and a movie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/gifts).

> a prize fic!!!! :D :D :D this is less josty bothering cale as requested and more josty being flirtatious and a lil awkward, but here you go?

"Dude," Tyson had said about six minutes after Cale signed the lease and got the keys to his new apartment. "When you get settled and stuff, I'll come down and make dinner sometime. It'll be great."

Cale had smiled and agreed and promptly forgotten about it; he thinks that's fair, honestly, what with starting his NHL career for real and facing living on his own for the first time and the fact that he definitely thought Tyson was just offering because that's what you do when someone moves into a new place. Here he is, though, a week into the season, opening his door and stepping back as Tyson barrels past him, two Safeway bags in each hand.

"Okay," Tyson says, grinning at him. "We're making dinner. Show me where you keep all your pots and stuff."

"All my…" Cale echoes, pushing the door closed. "Did we, uh. Did we have plans?"

Tyson shrugs. "Sort of," he says. "I promised I'd make you dinner. I was at Safeway with JT anyway, and, well…" He lifts the bags again. "Did you already have plans?"

"No," Cale says. He glances towards his kitchen. "How many pots do you need?"

Tyson lowers the bags and narrows his eyes. "Tell me you own more than one, Makar."

"Define 'pot,'" Cale hedges. He's got one that he can boil stuff in and one that he can fry stuff in, but he's pretty sure that's technically a frying pan, not a pot.

Tyson shakes his head. "Knives? Cutting board? Do you own a colander?"

"A _what_?" Cale asks, shaking his head. "I was gonna have my parents help with that stuff the next time they made it down. I don't have much."

Tyson sighs and holds the bags out. "Take these," he instructs, and Cale reaches out. "I'm going upstairs to get what I need. I'll be back."

"Okay," Cale says, bewildered, watching as Tyson strides towards the door and disappears again.

He blinks a few times, then shakes his head and heads for the kitchen. He can get the stuff out of the bags, he guesses, so he takes a few minutes to pull out more stuff than he thinks is strictly necessary for a meal for two people, lining it up more or less randomly on the counter. He reaches for his phone when he's done and doesn't hesitate to open up his text thread with Calvy. He's glad he got his own place this year, but he's also glad that Calvy had been firm about him texting if he ever had questions. He was probably thinking more that Cale would need laundry help and less about teammate help, but it's his fault for not being more specific.

_So Josty just showed up with Safeway bags??_ Cale texts.

It takes a minute for Calvy to reply; it's dinnertime at his house too, Cale reasons, and he's got two little kids to handle. _Haha,_ is the response he finally gets back. _He's not a bad cook. Just make sure you make him stay to help clean up, Comph says he sucks at that part._

_Okay,_ Cale replies. _Does he just do this?_

_You're special,_ Calvy responds. _Enjoy Hurricane Josty!_

_Wait what,_ Cale texts back, alarmed, but then there's a knock at his door, so he puts the phone down and goes to open it.

"So," Tyson says, barging past him with a box in his hands. "You and I are going to the store tomorrow, because I think your kitchen might make me cry, but I brought my stuff for now. I was going to ask you to help me cook, but I think that might be a disaster."

"I can learn," Cale protests, following him into the kitchen. "I probably _should_ learn."

"Which means that you don't know what you're doing," Tyson translates. He laughs, but it doesn't sound mean. "Dude, I can help you learn, but we'll do something easier for that. I kinda went all out and got some crazy stuff."

"Crazy stuff," Cale repeats. Tyson sets the box down and starts pulling things out, one after the other. Cale's kind of happy that he can at least name everything that comes out of the box; maybe he's not completely hopeless. 

"My mom makes this pecan chicken thing with a balsamic glaze that's killer, and I'm pretty sure I can do it," Tyson says, pointing at a few of the ingredients. "And I got rice and sauce and vegetables so we can do a stir fry thing to go with it."

Cale can feel his face light up. "I can do stir fry," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as excited as he feels. Tyson managed to hit on the one thing Cale's confident about cooking. "I even have a frying pan we can use for it."

Tyson's mouth curves into a smile before he laughs again. It's a nice sound, Cale thinks, right before he firmly tells himself to stop thinking about that. "Okay, you can help with the stir fry, then," he says. "But I brought my wok. Lesson one is how to use a wok."

"A wok," Cale repeats as Tyson pulls out--yep, that's for sure a wok. Okay then. "Why do you own a wok?"

"For stir fry," Tyson says, setting it onto the stovetop. "Okay, I'm gonna make the glaze and get the chicken going. I'm guessing I can trust you to cut up the vegetables and work on that?"

Cale generally buys the pre-cut stir fry vegetable packs, but he bites his tongue and nods. He knows what they're supposed to look like all cut up, and he's pretty confident in his ability to use a knife. "I've got it."

"Cool," Tyson says. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Do people actually say that?" Cale asks, reaching for the knife and cutting board that Tyson holds out for him. "I think my dad says that."

"I just said it, so there's that," Tyson points out. "If your dad says it, does that make it more or less legit?"

"I'm not sure," Cale says. He eyes the vegetables. "I need to wash them first, right?"

"Right," Tyson confirms. "Lots of people probably touched them at the store, so--"

"Gross," Cale says immediately, grabbing a pepper from the pile and turning the water on.

Tyson laughs. "Don't scrub or they'll bruise," he says. "And make sure you dry them before you start cutting, or they'll be slippery and you might hurt yourself."

"Got it," Cale says, putting the pepper beneath the stream of water and rubbing gently at it to rinse it off.

It is, Cale discovers, easy to cut vegetables; it's harder to do it consistently, and he ends up with a pile of vegetables that are definitely smaller than their original size, but range from kind of cartoonishly small to kind of cartoonishly large. He's pretty sure he got better at it as he went, though, and he's all about improvement, so he grabs the last pepper and puts it on the cutting board with a little nod to himself.

"Hey," Tyson says. He's been doing chicken things and mostly leaving Cale alone, but Cale looks up to see him and his perma-smile aimed in his direction. "Can I make a suggestion?"

Cale shrugs. "Sure. I can be coachable."

Tyson laughs and moves over, taking the knife from Cale's hand. "Hold it like this," he instructs, pinching the part of the blade right above the handle with two fingers and holding the handle with the rest of his hand. "It's gonna feel weird at first, but it'll give you better control over what you're doing, with some practice."

"Okay," Cale says, taking the knife back. He pinches the blade like Tyson had, then positions the pepper on the cutting board.

"Wait, no," Tyson says. He moves again so he's right behind Cale, reaching around him to adjust his hand on the pepper and on the knife. They're small, quick movements and then he steps away again, and Cale doesn't realise he was holding his breath until he breathes in again. "There. Try that."

"Okay," Cale manages. He concentrates as hard as he can on the pepper, because if he doesn't, he'll do somthing dumb like ask if this is just a cooking lesson or if Tyson's actually flirting with him.

"Cool, yeah," Tyson says as Cale starts cutting, and Cale catches the hint of his smile in his voice and very firmly doesn't let himself look up to check if he's right.

The rest of the dinner preparations thankfully pass without incident; the wok is easy enough to handle once Tyson shows him how to use it, and Cale produces a decent stir fry without burning any of the rice to the pan, which is new and exciting. It tastes good, too, and the chicken is even better. It's a good meal, all in all, and it's even better because he gets to share it with Tyson.

"Man, that was awesome," Tyson says, sighing as he leans back. "We should play pool or something. I don't want to go back upstairs yet."

Cale starts to nod, then glances back into the kitchen and thinks about what Calvy said. "We should clean up first."

Tyson groans. "We should play pool first and let the dishes soak."

Cale grins. "I've heard about you and dishes," he says, which is only partially true, but it makes Tyson laugh and get up, carrying his plate into the kitchen.

They do end up letting the pan that the chicken cooked in soak; it's sticky from the glaze that Tyson made, and Cale agrees that trying to scrub it out would be gross, so they fill it with soap and hot water once the rest of the dishes are cleaned before heading towards the pool table.

"Rematch time," Tyson says, grinning as Cale racks up the balls. "Best of seven again?"

Cale shrugs. "One game," he challenges. "Winner gets to pick something on Netflix, loser has to deal with it."

"Oh, tough," Tyson says. "I can handle it. I hope you like Godzilla, man, because I'm in an action mood."

"We're gonna be watching my favourite romcom," Cale says confidently, grabbing his cue and gesturing at the table. "You can break."

"Generous of you," Tyson says, grinning at Cale before leaning over to line up his shot. The balls scatter, but none of them sink, so Cale eyes the table before leaning over to line up for the two. He sinks it easily, standing and fistpumping before walking to the other side of the table, and Tyson laughs and claps when he sinks two more before missing.

"Well, I had to give you a shot," Cale says, standing and grinning at Tyson.

Tyson's smile broadens as he steps up to the table, fingers ghosting against Cale's arm before he steps to the side. "What a good host."

"I try," Cale says, and then puts that into action by trying very hard to watch Tyson's shot instead of his face, or the way his fingers wrap around his cue, or the long line of his back leading down to--

"Yes," Tyson says, pointing to the pocket where he'd just sunk the nine. "Eleven, here I come."

Cale laughs and looks at the table. That's safest, he decides. "You sure about that?"

"Positive," Tyson says. He moves quickly, walking behind Cale and brushing against him in a move that has to be deliberate, Cale thinks. There's plenty of room around the pool table, and yet...

Tyson crows when the eleven goes in. "Twelve," he says, pointing to it, then frowns. "Wait, shit. Can I uncall that?"

"No way," Cale says quickly. "This is why I don't call my shots, man. Once you do, you're stuck with it."

Tyson sighs deeply. "Okay, well," he says, frowning slightly as he steps to the side. "Damn.

"Wait, what if," Cale says. He takes a deep breath as he moves towards Tyson and crouches beside the table to line up the shot. "Look. Hit the four at an angle, and it should bounce up and sink the twelve."

Tyson sinks down beside him with a hum. "That's a tough angle."

"You can do it," Cale says. "C'mon, you've got this."

Tyson laughs quietly. "I thought you wanted to watch a romcom."

Cale shrugs. "I do," he says. "But this would be a sick shot to pull off. I want to watch."

Tyson nods as he looks at Cale, and there's an expression that flicks across his face, there and gone before he has a chance to figure out what it is. "Okay," he says. "I'll give it a try, but you can't laugh at me if I fuck up."

"I won't," Cale promises, standing as Tyson does. "Go for it."

Tyson nods and stares at the table for a moment, then moves a little and leans over. He positions his cue in a few different places, moving it a hair this way or that, then glances up at Cale. "Think I'm good?"

Cale doesn't let himself think about it before he moves behind Tyson, dropping down so they're not quite touching. Tyson's warm beneath him, and Cale does his best to ignore… everything, he thinks a little desperately, looking down the line of Tyson's pool cue at the shot.

"Maybe," Cale manages. His voice sounds a little off to his own ears, but hopefully Tyson doesn't notice. Cale reaches out, fingers settling on Tyson's shoulder and pushing a little until Tyson takes the hint, moving his arm to the side. He stands up when the shot looks as good as he can get it, taking a quick step away. "Try that."

Tyson takes a deep breath and lets it out as he takes the shot, and it goes exactly as well as Cale hoped it would, the cue ball spinning the four into the twelve and sinking it into the pocket. Tyson whoops and stands, already laughing as he turns to Cale. "That _was_ sick," he says, eyes sparkling, and Cale can't do anything but smile back at him. "Dude, you're good at this."

Cale laughs and gestures back to the table. "We're tied."

"That shot goes to you, though," Tyson says firmly. "No way was I making that without help."

"We'll see," Cale says, turning back to the table. "C'mon, take your shot."

The rest of the game goes quickly; Tyson misses, but Cale only sinks one on his next turn, and then Tyson sinks two. It's pretty back and forth until the end, when Cale has a good turn and manages to sink the rest of his solids before calling and sinking the eight ball.

Tyson's across the table from him when Cale stands back up, and he leans his head against his cue and grins. "I guess it's romcom time?"

Cale looks quickly back down at the table. His cheeks are red, he knows, but his cheeks are almost always red, so hopefully it's not enough of a change to notice. "Yeah," he says, leaning his cue against the side of the table. "Prepare for some Matthew Perry, that's all I have to say."

Tyson laughs. "Wait, the guy from _Friends_?"

"Yeah," Cale confirms. "C'mon. It's not actually on Netflix, but I have it on DVD."

"Wow, it really is your favourite, huh?" Tyson asks, following him into the living room and dropping onto the sofa. "I own maybe three DVDs total."

Cale shrugs and bends down to pull the drawer open in the entertainment system. "I don't have many either," he says. "_Three to Tango_ is worth it, though."

"Wait, like the book with the gay penguins?" Tyson asks.

Cale laughs. "No penguins," he promises. "Although, uh. There's… definitely some gay stuff. Sort of."

"Oh, well, now I have to know," Tyson says. "I thought I already knew about all the romcoms with gay stuff."

"I did say sort of," Cale says, putting the DVD into his PS4. It pops up quickly and he gets it going before joining Tyson on the sofa.

There's not a lot of room left; Tyson expands to fill all the space he can in most situations, and it's no different here. There's room enough for Cale to sit, but only barely, and Tyson grins at him as the credits start. "I'm a movie cuddler," he warns. "Tell me now if that bothers you."

Cale swallows hard. "Uh," he says, and then he decides _fuck it, it's worth a try,_ and leans across the space between them to brush his mouth against Tyson's.

Tyson's smiling softly at him when Cale pulls back. "Now who's the romcom?" he asks, shifting closer and leaning his head against Cale's shoulder. His hand comes to a rest low on Cale's thigh, just above his knee, and he hums and burrows in a little closer. "I was promised a movie, but I think we have a plan for after it's over now."

Cale smiles helplessly at the television and wraps his arm around Tyson's shoulder. "Yeah," he says. "I think we do."

**Author's Note:**

> -the pecan chicken thing is GOOD and i wish i still had the recipe
> 
> -three to tango is one of about three romcoms i'll watch. it's very 90s (and has some very 90s issues) but i enjoy it a lot


End file.
